


You should know me better than that

by atomictourist



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I gave myself a sad, Memory Loss, Natasha doesn't remember Bucky but he remembers her, One-Sided Attraction, References to Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2404091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomictourist/pseuds/atomictourist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Natasha meet at SHIELD HQ one night after a mission. Bucky still has feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You should know me better than that

**Author's Note:**

> \- I kind of smoosh 616 and MCU canons. Oops?  
> \- It's set after Brubaker's Captain America and Winter Soldier runs.  
> \- The title is a lyric from The National's "I Should Live in Salt"

Her ankle is in his lap, and it takes all of James’s training to keep his breathing even.

"Well is it broken?" Natasha asks tersely, pinching the bridge of her nose the way she does when she has a headache.

Another time they would have made a game of this: checking each other for injuries, kissing bruises; he would have buried his face between her thighs to take her mind off the throbbing pain in her head.

His breath hitches and Natasha arches an eyebrow at him. These days she looks at him with the same dubious regard she affords any other colleague. She only knows his name because they told her.

He runs his fingers over her swollen ankle, pressing gently, hoping the trembling in his hands isn’t as bad as it feels to him.

"I think it’s just a sprain," he says, his voice ragged, "P-probably should go to medical just in case."

Natasha peers at him, and for a moment he hopes.

But then she only scoffs and that sends another pang of familiarity through him. “If it’s just a sprain, I’ll be fine,” she says.

Even in his current state, James feels an amused smile flutter over his face. In so many ways she hasn’t changed at all.

Natasha glares at him.

"OK," he challenges, "if you can walk on it, no medical."

She makes it two steps before collapsing, and he’s there — lifting her into his arms — before he even realizes he moved.

"We’re going to medical," he says, mustering his best charming grin. His mind rails against how right she feels in his arms.

"Hill warned me about you. That smile won’t work on me," she says. But she relaxes into his arms all the same. She smells of explosives and sweat with a hint of blood. This is when he would have pressed his face to her hair, her cheek, her neck, just to breathe in the knowledge that she was alive after a mission.

His arms stiffen for a moment and he knows she can feel his heart rate increase even through the layers of his tactical vest. He knows because she arches an eyebrow at him and gives what for her passes as a shrug. She doesn’t tell him to put her down.

He carries her to medical. It’s late and he knows it’s unlikely anyone will see them in the corridors. She squirms against his metal arm as he walks.

“It’s cold,” she said, “ I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

James sighs. Then he concentrates on warming his arm to body temperature; he usually leaves it cold to save energy. Her look of confusion tells him it works.

“Well that’s interesting,” she says with a smirk as she settles back against him.

“You used to…” he mutters, but clamps his mouth shut and stares straight ahead, concentrating on the sound of his boots on the tile floor. 

She watches his face carefully. “You do this” — she mimics a comically exaggerated version of his frown — “whenever I speak. I’m not accustomed to men finding me annoying.” She cocks her head to consider something. “Unless I’m interrogating them.”

James huffs a laugh that comes out more cold than amused. He has witnessed men piss themselves at her interrogation techniques. It’s one of his favorite things about her, right up there with how flippant she can be about it. “You don’t annoy me,” he says, trying to inject some reassurance into his words.

“Then what is it?” she asks. Their arrival in Medical saves him from having to answer. The night nurse looks up from behind the front desk, visibly surprised to see Black Widow in the Winter Soldier’s arms.

“Agent Barnes, is she…” the nurse starts to ask as James sets Natasha in a chair. He holds up his flesh and blood hand to silence the man.

“We’re back from a mission. She can talk for herself,” he says. It still annoys him that these people defer to him when Natasha has always been the capable one. He turns away because the perplexed look she gives him is too much.

“Barnes thinks it’s a fracture,” she tells the nurse, “and I couldn’t walk on it.” She hisses when the nurse presses on her swollen ankle.

“Let’s get you back to x-ray,” the nurse says as he fetches a wheelchair from nearby.

Natasha looks at him then. There’s a soft expression on her face that twists his guts. “Thank you for taking care of me, Barnes. I’ll be alright from here. Go get cleaned up and debriefed.”

He stands there like an idiot as the nurse wheels her away.


End file.
